


the waves have come

by brumel



Series: the lawyer and the mechanic [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Issues, Sarada is a smart girl, Sasuke is trying his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brumel/pseuds/brumel
Summary: Sarada is used to seeing Papa at the end of the month. And then she doesn't see Papa, until she sees him again.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Uchiha Sarada, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sarada & Uchiha Sasuke
Series: the lawyer and the mechanic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624468
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	the waves have come

Tonight Sarada waits two hours more after school. She's learned that every last two weeks of each month, she comes home later, and decided a long time ago that she would draw to pass the time. 

Usually, homework is done in about thirty minutes after she's sat down and picked her favorite pen. She's always been quick at understand simple problems, and writes with sensibility and skill. She doesn't have the habit of showing off, she just heard Aburame-Sensei mention it out loud.

She likes him. He's calm, strict when he needs to be—but more importantly he knows when to recognize his students efforts. 

With all the time spent drawing, she can tell she's gotten better at it, so much that the hands of the figures on paper don't look horrendous, but articulated and defined. She's not at that point where they look gracious, but she planned on buying anatomy books to better her art.

She's about to add some colour to the woman with long hair, picking up bright coloured pen before a figure overshadows her drawing, and she can her name being called.

She twists her head, and behind here, standing, is the tall form of her father.

"Papa!"

He lets out a little huff when she jumps and hugs his waist. His hands rest on her shoulders, taking a good look at her with his sharp gaze. 

"Let's go home," he finally says, and Sarada smiles at the relief in his voice, reaching for his hand to hold it in her smaller one.

*

She could fall asleep any minute, with her body wrapped in the blanket Papa brought up from the backseat that smells like him—but she doesn't. Instead, her head bumps against the seat as he drives fast. 

He catches her looking, when he's not lost in his thoughts and blowing the smoke of his cigarette out of the window. He asks if she's alright. If she needs water. If they should stop by the next gas station if she needs anything. 

He sounds like he's trying hard. Even in the dark, with only the streetlights that illuminate parts of his face, she can see the circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders slump when he's tired of trying.

Her uncle had once told her she was too perceptive for her own good. Sometimes she wishes she weren't so familiar with Papa's sadness.

*

This morning she wakes up in the room in her Papa's small apartment. It's simple, tidy and modestly furnished, because he doesn't have time to clean the dust in the time she's gone. 

He is clean, though. Which is not something that can be seen in any man. She knows that Shikadai's mom does everything in the house, because her husband is lazy and doesn't want to lift a finger to help her. He must have plenty of other qualities to make up for that behaviour.

Her father cooks and cleans, and not only for himself. The apartment is in order everytime she visits. She had once mentioned she really wanted a dog, if he couldn't give her a little brother or sister. It had been said in anger, and she didn't really mean it, but the quiet shiba was a good companion when her father had to leave her for urgent, though very short appointments.

He may be a little withdrawn and tense in the company of people, but he's a good person. He's handsome, and very kind to Grandma and Grandpa, and her Uncle. 

It might be one of the reasons he's so alone, and there's no one to prepare him a bento. No one except her to remind him to go sleep on his own bed instead of the sofa, but she knows the main reason of his loneliness. She pretends she doesn't know of the box hidden in his closet which contains pictures and letters. She doesn't talk of the time she found a picture of his younger face staring back at her, dressed in a suit standing next to the very same woman who gave birth to her.

She doesn't mention anything of it. Not when there is so little time to be spent with him. She wants to take that time to learn how to cook by his side, do some gardening on their balcony, walk with him to the park and make him patiently wait as she plays fetch with the dog. She wants to sleep against his shoulder in front of a movie, and feel him carry her to bed and wake up as soon as he closes her door, his warmth gone. 

A handful of days later, Papa will wake up early, take a little more time to prepare breakfast, and forget to shave before driving her to the same place he came picking her up a week later.

School will be the same routine, but this time, when the bell rings, she doesn't wait two more hours before someone picks her up.

Mama is here, and she's grinning, looking like a model from a magazine with her vibrant hair and her beautiful red dress. She engulfs Sarada in a bear hug, her fragrance hitting her nostrils, so different from Papa's faint smell. 

"Mama! Too tight! You're hurting me!" 

She doesn't budge, letting her mother relax her hold on her, giving her a timid smile.

"I'm sorry. I got too excited. You have no idea how much I missed you!" She moves to kiss her cheek, and she lets her. She has no idea why she's indulging this affection that isn't necessary. It's not like she wasn't going to come back, eventually.

Mama observes her, her green eyes leaving no inch of her hidden to her gaze.

"And what is this..?"

"Oh," she pouts, trying to hide the object behind her back, "It's nothing."

Her mother gently pulls it from her grasp. The necklace shines in the light of the sun, the cherry blossom pendant glistening. 

"Oh."

She doesn't know why she's blushing. She should have kept it in her pocket. Surely this will ruin Mama's mood.

To her surprise, her mother brings the necklace around her neck, closing the clasp behind her neck.

"Well. It does suit you a lot."

Her mama's smiles are always the prettiest. Even the sad ones.

**Author's Note:**

> studio pierrot: NOOO you can't have sasuke give that necklace to sakura noooooo  
me: try me bitch


End file.
